


Whispers

by moomoomeep



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Animal Sidekick, Brainwashing, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Frozen 2 spoilers, Implied Period Typical Homophobia, M/M, Memory Loss, Murder, Nausea, Panic Attack, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Vertigo - Freeform, Winter Soldier POV, light gore, suicide ideation, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moomoomeep/pseuds/moomoomeep
Summary: While on an assignment in Norway, the Winter Soldier hears a mysterious voice.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! It’s been SO long since I’ve written for this pairing and I’m hyped that I found a way to combine two of the things I love: Steve/Bucky and Frozen. (Also please ignore how I ripped a couple of my favorite lines directly from frozen)
> 
> Warnings: all warning listed in the tags. Please let me know if I missed anything. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or Frozen 2. Both of those belong to Disney.

**1928—Brooklyn, New York City, New York, United States**

“Bucky. Bucky.”

Bucky groans as he’s shaken into consciousness. “Go to bed, Steve.”

“No, look outside.”

Bucky yawns and smacks his lips together.

“Are you looking?”

“Yeah, I’m looking,” Bucky says as he starts to fall back asleep.

Steve makes a noise low in his throat, indicating that he’s irritated, and shakes Bucky back and forth. “C’mon Buck, it’s _snowing_.”

“So?”

_“So?”_ Steve repeats exasperated. He suddenly stops shaking Bucky and goes eerily silent.

Bucky tenses under Steve’s hands, knowing that he is changing tactics and braces himself because he’s not going to fall for it and end up going along with whatever Steve wanted. Not again.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?”

Ah hell.

Bucky cracks open his eyes as a mischievous smile crosses his face. He rolls over to face Steve who is wearing a lopsided grin. “Get your coat.”

They scramble out of bed as quickly and quietly as they can so they don’t wake Steve’s mom, who is sleeping in the bedroom next door. They pull on their thick winter coats and brand new (to them) snow boots. Bucky gives Steve his scarf and gloves, despite Steve’s protests.

“Don’t want you getting sick on me,” Bucky says simply in response before taking his hat off and placing it on Steve’s head. Steve frowns and it makes him look like a disgruntled marshmallow. Bucky tells him such and earns himself a whack on the head.

Steve waddles over to the window and unlocks it before opening it up. The heat rushes from the room and is quickly replaced with cold winter air. Bucky climbs outside first, making sure his feet are firmly planted on the snow covered fire escape before helping Steve outside. It’s cold, but bearable since there’s no wind. There has to be at least two feet of snow on the ground already and it’s still falling. They’re probably gonna have a snow day tomorrow and Bucky’s glad—it means more time that he can spend with Steve as long as his mom says it’s okay for him to stay over another night.

Bucky tightens his grip on Steve’s arm as he swings his legs over the windowsill and hops on the fire escape. He makes sure that Steve has his balance before he lets go and they begin to work. Bucky rolls out three snowballs—one large, one medium, and one small—and Steve sculpts them into perfect circles. Bucky lifts the snowballs on top of each other, being careful so he doesn’t ruin Steve’s work, while Steve sticks his arm inside grabbing two pencils for arms and a pencil sharper for the nose. When the snowman is fully assembled, the boys step back and admire their handiwork.

“Hi, I’m Einar and I like warm hugs,” Bucky says in a goofy voice.

Steve laughs quietly. “I love you, Einar,” he says as he leans forward and gives Einar a hug, nearly knocking off his head in the process.

Once Steve steadies Einar, they both dissolve into borderline hysterical giggles, forgetting that they’re supposed to be quiet.

“What are you boys doing up?” a voice calls from the window that causes both boys to nearly jump out of their skin. They turn and see Steve’s mom, Sarah, leaning out of the open window with a green blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “It’s the middle of the night. Come inside before you both freeze.”

Steve climbs through the window first, with Sarah and Bucky’s help. Bucky clambers in right after him, before Sarah can turn around to help, and closes and locks the window. He strips himself of his winter coat and boots before placing them next to Steve’s near the radiator. He follows Steve into the bathroom where they both wash and dry their hands before returning to the bedroom and crawling back into bed.

“Are you boys going to stay in bed now?” Sarah asks as she tucks both boys under the covers.

“Yes ma’am,” Steve and Bucky chime together.

“Good,” Sarah says with a tired smile. She brushes some hair away from their foreheads and tuts under her breath. “You’re both freezing. Here, cuddle close, scooch in.”

Steve and Bucky shift around until they’re lying on their sides with their arms wrapped around each other. Bucky can feel the steady warmth of Steve’s body heat against his skin slowly warming him up.

Sarah tucks the blanket in around both of them, fitting the excess under their bodies to keep the heat in. _“Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a river full of memory,”_ she sings quietly. _“Sleep, my darling, safe and sound, for in this river all is found. In her waters, deep and true, lie the answers and a path for you. Dive down deep into her sound, but not too far or you'll be drowned.”_

Steve lets out a big yawn and closes his eyes, pressing his cheek firmly against Bucky’s.

_“Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear and in her song, all magic flows. But can you brave what you most fear? Can you face what the river knows? Where the north wind meets the sea. There's a mother full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. When all is lost, then all is found.”_

Steve is fast asleep, his breathing deep and even, while Bucky is barely clinging to wakefulness.

“Miss Sarah,” Bucky says quietly before she has a chance to leave the room. “What’s the river called?”

Sarah smiles gently. “It’s called . . .”

Bucky drops off and falls into a deep sleep before Sarah can finish.

*

*

*

*

*

*

**1992—Tromsø, Troms og Finnmark, Norway**

The Winter Soldier ducks into an alley, keeping his footsteps light and his breathing quiet and even. He’s been tailing his target, who’s been wearing this obnoxious pink coat, for the past three days. By this point, he knows her routine well enough to be able to complete the assignment—he’s just waiting for an appropriate time to strike.

He absently pulls his coat tighter around his body before scolding himself and releasing the thick fabric. One would think that the Norwegian winter wouldn’t bother him due to his inclement weather training, but it reminds him of the endless cold of the icebox. He involuntarily shivers before scolding himself again. He shouldn’t be showing any weaknesses on an assignment even if it is only inside of his own head.

The Soldier shakes his head in an attempt to refocus his mind as he zeros in on the target exiting the alley. His Handlers didn’t give him her name—only a photo for him to be able to identify her. They want him to eliminate her and dispose of the confidential documents she stole before they’re leaked to the papers, or worse, sold to other governments.

He slows down his pace when he realizes he’s getting too close to the target. He doesn’t want his cover blown because that will cause his target to run, which means he’ll have to confront her public and he doesn’t want to have any witnesses to complicate matters. The Soldier slips his gloved hands into his pockets and huffs out a breath, watching the puff of air rise and swirl in the still air.

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier jerks in surprise and with such force that he almost dislodges one of the knives in his pockets. He looks around, seeking out the source of the voice, without drawing any unnecessary attention to himself. Life continues moving on around him and no one else gives any indication of hearing the voice. The Soldier continues forward as his eyes rescan the crowd. He spots the target further down the street and quickens his pace to catch up with her.

_Ah ah ah ah_

He slows right back down again. He must be hearing things due to lack of sleep. The target is even farther along and he needs to stop getting distracted before he looses her.

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier stops in the middle of the sidewalk this time, ignoring the dirty looks that people throw him. Three times is a pattern and he realizes that the voice, or whatever it is, is speaking to him and only him. He’s never heard a voice like that on any of his other missions. So, why now?

The Soldier moves like he wants to sigh, but instead blows out a flat breath. He rescans the crowd before swearing under his breath.

He’s lost the target

*

The sun is sinking well below the horizon when the Soldier climbs onto the roof of the building directly across from the target’s apartment complex. He takes the paneling off the exterior laundry vent and pulls out his busted black duffle bag that he had to have had for at least . . . a while. Inside is his reliable sniper rifle, a M25 that’s he’s had since . . . well, ever since his Handlers acquired it from the United States, and two slide arms—and AK47, which is a classic in his profession, and a .22 LR Glock.

The AK47 is in case he is ambushed or if someone sneaks up behind him during a stake out. The Glock is loaded with one bullet in the chamber in case he is compromised.

He assembles his M25 with near robotic precision. He slings his AK47 over his shoulders so it’s resting against his back and sticks his Glock in one of his many interior jacket pockets. After checking his person to make sure everything is in place, he finds the perfect perch before lying down on his stomach.

The roof is cold and the rifle tucked into his side is even colder. But nothing is as cold as the icebox and the Soldier has to grit his teeth to prevent himself from shuddering again at the thought . . . no, the _feel_ of the icebox. His mind is always the last to freeze so he feels _everything_. The chill that begins in his fingertips and spreads to his arms and shoulders before flowing down, paralyzing him with every passing second. He can’t move and can barely form a coherent thought with the thousand racing through his head. The cold spreads to his feet and up his neck. He can feel the chill seeping through his skin and into his soul.

He’s afraid—so _fucking_ afraid and it’s cold—so _fucking_ cold and he can’t breathe—

_“Miss Sarah,” Bucky asks over breakfast. Ever since he woke up, he’s been curious for more details about the mysterious river that she sang about last night. “Can you tell us more about the river?”_

_Sarah hums, without turning around from the stove. “It’s called Ahtohallan.”_

_“Ahto—what?” Steve asks before shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth._

_“Ahtohallan,” Sarah says. “My great grandmother once told me that it’s a magical river said to hold secrets about the past. Legend says that it’s located somewhere in the Arctic Ocean.”_

_“A river? In the middle of the ocean?” Bucky questions confused._

_“Makes sense to me,” Steve says around a mouthful of pancake._

_“Steve, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Sarah gently scolds._

_Steve lowers his eyes to the table and finishes chewing before swallowing. “Yes mom.”_

_“Is it real?” Bucky asks._

_Steve rolls his eyes. “Of course it’s real, Buck,” he says before Sarah can answer._

_“Well, how would you know?” Bucky challenges with a glare._

_Sarah laughs quietly as she listens to the boys argue while simultaneously shoveling food in their mouths._

The Soldier jerks awake and immediately curses himself for blacking out during a mission. It’s pitch black now and the noises of the city have faded into a steady calm. He reorients himself and looks down his scope, spotting movement in the target’s apartment behind the now closed curtains. He shifts and rests his chin on his metal arm. It’s cold, but it’s a comforting cold that helps ground him to reality.

That dream he had was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Usually when he falls asleep, it’s just an endless nothing until he wakes again. It felt so real like he was watching a memory rather than dreaming . . . but it wasn’t one of his memories.

He pushes the thought away in favor of looking back through his scope. He watches the apartment for fifteen minutes and finds that all movement has ceased. The Soldier moves into a crouch and swiftly disassembles his M25, placing the pieces in his duffel bag. He fishes out a silencer and attaches it to his AK47 before swinging the duffel bag over his shoulders.

He walks backwards until he reaches the opposite end of the roof. He breathes out heavy through his nose before running and leaping as soon as his feet hit the opposite edge, momentum carrying him over the gap between the roofs. He curls his body into a ball as he rolls gracefully on the roof above the target’s apartment. The Soldier climbs to his feet and brushes himself off. Luckily, the target lives on the top floor of the building so it’s painfully easy for him to slip over the edge of the building and into her apartment through the unlocked windows.

He lands silently on the plush carpet of the living room. The moonlight illuminates his way as he creeps through the living room, following the sounds of quiet snoring down a narrow hallway until he reaches the master bedroom. He uses his right hand to push open the slightly cracked door and finds the room is near pitch black. The Soldier has excellent night vision and uses it to his advantage to maneuver his way around the clothes strewn along the floor and the boxes piled high. He briefly wonders if those are the documents he needs to dispose of before he reaches one side of the bed.

The target is sound asleep next to her partner, both oblivious to his presence. They’re both curled around each other; their limbs tangled together and breaths mingling. Her hair is spread out around both their heads like a halo and while sleeping, she looks completely innocent even though she has blood on her hands and will undoubtedly have more if those documents are released to the public. The Soldier shifts his AK47 from his back to his front, cocking his gun, and taking aim.

_“Oh god, Steve,” Bucky breathes out._

_“You feel so good, Buck,” Steve says as he shoves his face into Bucky’s sweaty neck._

_Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist and arches his back so Steve will slide in deeper. “Oh, that’s the shit. Oh, Steve.”_

_Steve smirks against Bucky’s skin as he finds a rhythm, the vibrations from his low laughter going straight to Bucky’s dick. “The others are gonna hear you.”_

_“Fuck ‘em,” Bucky chokes out. “I want ‘em to hear how good you make me feel—how good your dick is._

_Steve’s rhythm falters. “Fuck.”_

_“That’s right, Rogers, gimme that dick,” Bucky says, pulling Steve into a sloppy kiss that’s more tongue than anything. He moans into Steve’s mouth, running his hands down Steve’s chest to rub at his sensitive nipples._

_Steve moans loud against Bucky’s lips and regains his rhythm. Skin slapping skin and their joint moans is all that fills the room. They know they should be quiet since they’re staying in a small bed and breakfast with the rest of the Commandos on the same floor, but they’re too far gone to care._

_Bucky runs his hands up and down Steve’s back as he feels a familiar heat pool in his belly. He pulls away from Steve’s mouth and presses their foreheads together. “Steve, I—” is all the warning he’s able to give before cumming hard._

_Steve manages a few more thrusts before cumming deep inside Bucky. “Oh fuck,” he hisses as he lowers himself to his elbows._

_Bucky rolls his eyes. “Come ‘ere,” he says, helping Steve lay down in a way that doesn’t cut off his breathing. He hasn’t gotten used to Steve being big and healthy now, but he’s starting to warm up to it._

_“Love you, Buck,” Steve says before placing a kiss on Bucky’s chest._

_Bucky smiles. “Love you too,” he says as he wraps Steve in a hug._

_They lay in bed holding each other while they catch their breaths. Bucky absently runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, much to his delight if the quiet sighs of appreciation are anything to go by. Steve’s still buried deep inside Bucky and after a while, it gives him an idea._

_“So,” Bucky says, breaking their comfortable silence. “What’s your refraction period now?”_

_Steve hums. “Don’t know,” he says as he gives an experimental roll of his hips._

_Bucky’s eyes roll into the back of his head. “Christ, Steve.”_

_Steve rolls his hips again and Bucky moans. He can feel Steve getting hard inside him and his dick twitches with interest._

_Steve leans down and gives Bucky a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad to have you back.”_

_“Me too,” Bucky says before wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him down into a proper kiss._

The Soldier blinks as the memory—dream—fades into the depths of his mind, leaving his breathing heavy and his pants tight. That, whatever it was, felt even realer than his previous dream; it was more like watching a memory. But, the Soldier has never met that man before and he would remember being drilled by a very attractive blonde guy.

The Soldier releases a shaky breath and flexes his fingers around his gun. The target and her partner are still sleeping and he’s relieved that no one will see him in this state. He raises the gun and fires two shots, one in her head and one under her armpit. Her partner’s breath stutters and he jerks in his sleep so the Soldier does the same to him. Easy, quiet, and clean.

He exits the room and notices a light coming from the room next door. The door is cracked and he pushes it open wider so he can peak his head inside. There are two children, who can’t be older than ten, asleep in bunk beds. They look like they haven’t moved since they fell asleep so the Soldier closes the door. All he has to do is find the documents.

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier grits his teeth. That damn voice is back.

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier bites back a growl as a thought pops into his head. In one of his memory— _dreams_ . . . whatever, they mentioned something called Ahtohallan. Could that be . . . no, there’s no way that there’s a magic river in the middle of the damn ocean.

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier is supposed to return to the base in Oslo immediately so he can be flown back to Moscow, but he wants to find the source of this voice even if he’s just going to shut it up in the end. He leaves the apartment the same way he came in, making sure to close the window behind him.

When his feet hit the ground, he walks to the parking lot and steals the first car he sees. He breaks the door handle with his left arm and climbs in, throwing his duffel into the passengers seat. He moves the panel under the steering wheel and maneuvers the wires until the car turns on. After adjusting the seat, he puts the car in drive and merges onto the main road.

It’s not until he’s long outside the city that he realizes he forgot to destroy the documents.

*

The car runs out of gas about twelve miles outside Tromsø on a single-lane road that stretches on for miles, flanked on either side with large pine trees. The Soldier gets out of the car with his duffel and shuts the door, leaving it in the middle of the road as he disappears between the tree line.

He continues north, finding that he’s struggling to walk since the snow gets deeper the further he gets from the road. The trees loom tall and imposing overhead, with branches weighted down by snow and the frigid air. One wrong move could send all that snow tumbling down and burying him. It’s cold, but not as cold as the icebox, so in theory, he’d be able to get out eventually.

The Soldier grunts as walking is getting even harder now that he’s going up hill. At least it’s quiet out here and the view isn’t half bad to look at. He shifts to take another step and finds that his foot is stuck in the snow. He makes a noise of irritation and grabs his leg with both hands before tugging.

_“Hold still,” Steve says without looking up from his sketchbook._

_“It’s too hot,” Bucky complains as he wipes the sweat from his brow, which draws an irritated noise from Steve. He’s been lying on the couch acting as Steve’s personal model for the last half hour or so, sweating buckets the entire time. It’s one of the hottest days the city has ever experienced and of course it’s the same day their air unit decided to break. They opened the windows a while ago, but Bucky thinks the hot air coming in from outside is making it worse. “Can I at least take my shirt off?”_

_Steve rolls his eyes. “I guess since you won’t still anyway.”_

_Bucky sits up and quickly discards his shirt before Steve can finish talking. He flings it across the room and watches as it lands on one of the potted plants that Steve insisted on having to “liven the place up.” Bucky lies back down on the couch and hooks his fingers into his belt loops. “Should I take my pants off too?”_

_Steve hums and looks at Bucky over the top of his sketchbook. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to get heat stroke.”_

_Bucky smirks as he unbuttons his pants, taking his time to slide them down his hips and legs before pulling them off and throwing them behind the couch. He decided to go commando today and can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he settles back down. “You gonna stare or come over here and keep me warm?”_

_Steve raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were hot?”_

_“I’m suddenly cold.”_

_“How convenient,” Steve says as he sets his sketchbook aside and walks over to the couch, kicking off his slippers and climbing on top of Bucky._

_Bucky grins as Steve sits down in his lap. He reaches out runs his hands up and down his lithe frame. “I love seeing you on top of me.”_

_A light dusting of color spreads across Steve’s cheeks before he rolls his hips against Bucky’s._

_“Fuck,” Bucky sighs quietly. “Get that off,” he says as he helps Steve take off his shirt and throw it behind the couch. He runs his hands over Steve’s chest and stomach, noting that he’s filling out a bit more now that Bucky’s finally making enough money so they can eat regularly. “You’re gorgeous.”_

_Steve smiles and leans down, connecting their lips together. Bucky tangles a hand in Steve’s hair and tilts his head to deepen their kiss._

The Soldier blinks blearily as the mem—dream fades, leaving his breathing hitched and his shoulders shaking. His chest is constricted tight and he feels something heavy settling deep within him like there’s a hole that’s trying to be filled but there’s nothing around to fill it. He sniffs and wipes at his face only to find that his glove is wet. He’s crying? Over what? Over some blonde guy he’s never met or doesn’t remember meeting? What was his name? Steve?

The feeling in his chest gets heavier and the Soldier feels like he can’t breathe. Even the mere thought of the man’s name elicits such an intense response from him that he must have known him at some point or another. But, why doesn’t he remember?

The Soldier drops his duffel bag to the ground. He unzips it and digs around for his Glock, pulling it out and turning it over in his hands. He’s compromised. He knows it. His handlers told him to put the mission above everything. If he ever fell into enemy hands . . . but the Soldier isn’t in enemy hands, is he? The only enemy is the blonde man, but the way he makes the Soldier feel—

He’s not the enemy.

The Soldier is compromised. He knows what he has to do, but part of him _wants_ to find Steve. Find him and _demand_ answers from him.

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier blinks. The voice . . . if his memory-dream is correct that Ahtohallan sings to those who hear then . . . no, there’s no way there’s a river in the middle of the fucking ocean. But, what else could it be? The Soldier looks down at the Glock in his hands and buries in the snow beneath a nearby tree. It’s ridiculous—no, _irresponsible_ to follow a voice into unknown territory, but he has to find Steve and Ahtohallan is the way to do it.

He zips up his duffel and slings it back over his shoulders. Rising to his feet, he wiggles his trapped leg for a moment before slowly sliding it out of the snow. He takes a step and promptly walks into a furry wall. Biting back an indignant shout, he takes a couple steps back, with enough awareness so he doesn’t re-trap his leg and discovers . . . a reindeer?

It’s big (bigger than what the Soldier was expecting) with long legs and a stocky body that’s covered in crisp white fur. Intimidating antlers jut out from its brow while large brown eyes search the Soldier’s face with a curiosity and kindness that’s he’s never known before. The reindeer must find whatever it’s looking before because it licks the Soldier’s face without warning, getting spit all over his mask and smearing his goggles.

The Soldier sputters and rips off his goggles with a huff before shoving them into his pants pocket. He adjusts the duffel on his shoulder before walking around the reindeer and continuing north. Footsteps fall barely audible on the snow behind him and the Soldier whirls around to find the reindeer is following him. He lifts an eyebrow, challenging the reindeer, only to be ignored.

The Soldier sighs. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” he asks, his voice sounding rough from disuse and foreign to his own ears.

The reindeer shakes its head, as if to say no.

The Soldier sighs, wondering what he did to be cursed with this animal before walking over and climbing on the reindeer’s back. “I don’t know why, but you seem like a Steve to me.”

Steve makes a low grunting noise and takes off without warning, nearly throwing the Soldier from his back in the process. He clings to Steve’s fur while they blaze through the woods; dodging low, snow covered branches, brush and bushes, and several small animals. When they finally burst through the woods and into open territory sometime later, the Soldier realizes how late it is.

The sun is dipping down past the snow-capped mountains, leaving them with little light to work with. The temperature is slowly dropping which causes the Soldier to shiver involuntarily. He doesn’t like traveling out in the open, especially in these northern countries at night, but luckily there’s a cabin up ahead. It seems abandoned since the lights are off and there’s no smoke coming from the chimney, but one can’t be too careful.

The Soldier gently digs his heels into Steve’s side until he slows down and eventually comes to a stop in front of the cabin. He climbs off Steve and cautiously walks around the cabin. He doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary or detect any movement inside. He goes back around to the front and breaks off the doorknob with his metal hand before going inside.

Steve follows him inside and uses his back leg to shut the door behind him. The Soldier thinks it’s a little weird, but doesn’t dwell on it. It’s dark and musty in here so he isn’t worried about the owners coming back any time soon, especially since a snowstorm is in the forecast. He throws his duffel on the floor and looks around the room and spots a fireplace along the adjacent wall. He walks over to it and crouches down, finding a couple logs and a fire poker. He quickly starts a fire and barely registers Steve laying down somewhere behind him as he tends to the flames until they roar.

He sets down the fire poker and scoots back until he’s able to lie down against Steve’s body. His fur is freezing from being outside, but it’s not as cold as the icebox, so he’s able to make himself as comfortable as he can. The Soldier unhooks his mask and sets it on the floor beside him. He yawns and scratches at his beard as he watches the fire dance above the tips of his boots until he’s unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

_Bucky sighs heavily as fatigue seeps into his muscles, his limbs growing heavier with every step. It was another long day at the docks—several people were out sick with the flu so he and his regular group of coworkers had to pick up the slack. A couple of the guys wanted to get drinks after but Bucky turned them down, he is that exhausted. He stops at the foot of the steps that leads up to their second floor apartment and regards them with tired eyes before dragging himself upstairs, one painful step at a time, until he’s standing in front of their apartment door._

_He digs his keys out of his pocket before opening the door and stepping inside. The smell of stew hits him immediately, followed by the faint sound of Duke Ellington on the record player. Bucky tosses his things into the rickety brown chair they keep by the door before shutting and locking the door behind him. He shucks off his jacket and throws it somewhere before wandering into the tiny kitchen._

_Steve is standing in front of the stove with his back to him, stirring a large pot. His sketchbook is open on the counter beside him and it looks like he’s been drawing Miss Darnold, who’s asleep out on her balcony._

_Bucky walks over and wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, placing a kiss on the back of his head._

_Steve sighs and relaxes against him, leaning his head against Bucky’s chest. “You’re all sweaty.”_

_“And yet you haven’t pushed me away,” Bucky says as he buries his nose in Steve’s hair. “How was your day?”_

_Steve hums. “I went to the market with Miss Pat and her sister. You shoulda seen it, Buck, they were showing off tomatoes the size of our heads.”_

_“I’ll bet that was something.”_

_“Oh it was. Then we went for lunch at this sandwich place a couple blocks from here—I got you one if you wanna take it to work tomorrow. And then I made sure the girls got home safe and then came back here.”_

_“Sounds like you had a good day.”_

_Steve shrugs. “No complaints. How was yours?”_

_Bucky rolls his eyes as the annoyance and exhaustion from the day creeps back. “We had a lot of callouts because the flu is going around. Everyone had to do near triple the work so we could finish on time.”_

_“Sorry, Buck.”_

_“It’s okay. As long as I get to come home to you, I can handle anything.”_

_Steve turns down the burner and puts the lid on the pot before turning around in Bucky’s arms so they’re chest to chest. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck and pulls him into a kiss._

_Bucky sighs when their lips connect and tilts his head to one side for a better angle. Kissing Steve is one of his favorite things to do. Their bodies fit together perfectly as if they were made for each other. He licks along Steve’s bottom lip as his hands wander up and under Steve’s shirt, running over his smooth skin._

_Steve sighs into the kiss and opens his mouth. Their tongues slide together and Bucky’s hands move down to Steve’s pants, popping open the button and tugging down his zipper._

_Steve laughs quietly and pulls away from Bucky, though he doesn’t go far. “Dinner’s going to be ruined,” he says, his lips brushing against Bucky’s with every word._

_“Don’t care. Come to bed with me.”_

_“After we eat. Now go wash up.”_

_Bucky reluctantly takes his hands off Steve and manages to sneak in a few quick pecks before Steve shoos him to the bathroom. It’s difficult for him to walk with a hard on, but Bucky manages to reach the bathroom and close the door without incident. He looks to the shower and considers taking one so he can jerk off, but he decides to wait since it’ll be more fun to take one with Steve. Hell, he might even be able to convince Steve to bend him over the tub and fuck him._

_Grinning at the thought, Bucky rubs soap on his hands for a while before turning on the water and running his hands under the warm stream. He spits into the sink and looks into the mirror—_

The Soldier jerks awake as if he’s been shot, his eyes flying open as he gasps for breath. He can feel Steve shifting underneath him so he sits up, unable to get that dream out of his head. The face in the mirror . . . was his face. Bucky’s face is his face. And if he and Bucky have the same face that means they’re the same person, which means that he isn’t having dreams, he’s seeing _memories_.

His heart pounds rapidly in his chest as his breathing picks up. A thousand thoughts race through his mind but he can’t seem to latch onto any of them. He runs his hands over his face and into his hair, grabbing onto the strands and trying not to pull them out. A deep feeling of dread pools in his stomach and the Soldier wishes that he didn’t leave that gun in the woods.

A large, wet nose nudges at his shoulder, reminding him that he isn’t alone. He turns and throws himself against Steve’s body, burying his face in its fur. Steve smells like the earth and the Soldier breathes it in, allowing the scent to wash over him and slowly calm his beating heart and choppy breathing.

*

The Soldier opens his eyes and sits up before his brain registers that he’s awake. He blinks blearily as his eyes dart around the room. Sunlight filters in through the windows, lighting up the room and revealing exactly how much dust there is. The owners really haven’t been here for quite some time and the Soldier thinks this cabin could make a decent safe house, but he can’t linger for much longer. He should have reported to the base in Oslo by now and his handlers are going to get impatient and send someone after him once they realize he’s not coming.

The Soldier stretches, trying to loosen his stiff muscles before standing up and brushing off his pants for something to do. He looks down and finds Steve watching him expectantly. He reaches down and gently strokes at the fur between Steve’s ears. “Thank you,” he says, earning a low grunt in response. He grabs his mask off the floor and puts it back on before slinging his duffel over his shoulders.

He checks the fire, which had gone out at some point in the night, and double checks that it’s really out before walking out the front door. He squints at the sunlight reflecting off the snow before fishing out his goggles from his pocket and slipping them on.

Steve walks out of the house and uses his hoof to close the door behind him. The Soldier still thinks that’s weird, but he doesn’t dwell on it. Steve comes to a stop next to the Soldier and sniffs at his hair before munching on the ends.

The Soldier bites back a yell and yanks his hair from Steve’s mouth. He glares at Steve and gets a cheeky look in response. The Soldier huffs and ties his hair into a bun before climbing on Steve’s back. Since Ahtohallan is supposedly located in the Arctic Ocean, they’ll have to cross Norwegian Sea to Svalbard. Luckily, there’s an overnight cargo ship in Havøysund that will take them there.

The Soldier grabs two fistfuls of Steve’s fur and gently digs his heels into Steve’s side, encouraging him to work from a slow jog into a sprint. He shifts and steers Steve to run Northwest before allowing his mind to wander to his dream—memory-thing from last night. He doesn’t have any memories of being Bucky, but he remembers Steve, who he was obviously romantically involved with at some point.

He racks his brain trying to remember _something_ from his apparent past, but all he sees are flashes. Blond hair, a soft smile, thin fingers caressing his cheek, strong arms wrapped around him, blood everywhere, rapid gunfire, severed limbs swinging in the wind, explosions, falling, falling, blood, rapid gunfire, someone yelling, “ _Strap him in_ ,” electric shocks, screaming—

Steve grunts loudly, which rips the Soldier from his thoughts. He looks around with wild eyes as his breath comes out in ragged pants and his heart beats loudly in his ears. He slowly loosens his grip on Steve’s fur as he tries to reconnect back to reality. While he would like to reclaim his apparent past, if that means remembering every mission he’s ever been on, he’s not sure if it’s worth it . . . but, he wants to remember Steve. And Steve would be worth it.

The Soldier blows out a slow, steady breath as his heartbeat returns to normal. He gently strokes the soft fur at the base of Steve’s neck. “I’m sorry.”

Steve lets out a low grunt as if he’s accepting the apology.

The Soldier looks up and notices a truck in the distance, appearing to be moving in slow motion on the icy roads. He watches it intently through his peripheral vision, steering Steve until they’re running parallel to it. He’s not in the mood for a fight right now so he’s going to do his best to keep them out of sight.

The Soldier watches as the truck crosses the Havøysund Bridge and disappears between the buildings. He steers Steve towards the bridge as his eyes scan the road for cars. Steve’s hooves thunder along the road as they sprint across the bridge into town. An icy wind blows through, breeching through the Soldier’s coat, chilling his skin and causing him to shiver. It’s cold, but not as cold as the icebox. He gently digs his heels into Steve’s side, coaxing him to slow down until they’re at a complete stop.

He hops off Steve’s back and ducks down behind the nearest building, patting the ground until Steve moves closer and does the same. At first glance, it didn’t seem like anyone was outside, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. The Soldier squat-walks to the edge of the building and slowly peers around the corner. He sees two people sitting on their front porch a couple houses down, but they have their backs to him and seem to be thoroughly engaged in their conversation. He looks both ways before darting across the narrow road and taking cover behind another house.

The Soldier turns around so he can coax Steve across the street and ends up smacking his forehead against Steve’s large nose. He bites back a groan and glares at Steve.

Steve gives him a cheeky look and licks his mask.

The Soldier sighs heavily before turning back around. Havøysund is small so he can see the docks just up ahead. It’s just about five in the evening so the sailors should be heading into town for dinner with maybe one to two people remaining on board as guards. They won’t return for at least two to three hours, giving him and Steve plenty of time to board.

The Soldier reaches back in search of Steve’s head but instead gets a fistful of fur. “Stay close,” he whispers.

Steve licks the back of his neck in understanding.

The Soldier pushes down the feeling of utter disgust as he peers around the house, watching as the sailors disembark the ship and walk into town. Steve is behind him, breathing heavily down his neck and smacking his lips in his ear. He throws up a hand to get him to stop, but Steve just licks the back of it. The Soldier wipes his hand on his pants while the last group of sailors leaves the ship. He lingers for a moment, making sure that it’s clear before darting forward using a couple barrels and a dumpster for cover before stopping behind a cart of boxes.

The Soldier peers around and sees that their path to the ship is clear. There is a group of people in the distance, but they’re too far away to do anything if they get spotted. The Soldier takes a breath and takes off, running as quickly and quietly as he can before he reaches the ship’s ramp, skidding to a stop and nearly getting run over by Steve in the process. He stumbles for a second before regaining his balance and sprinting up the ramp and onto the ship.

The Soldier looks both ways before deciding to go right, walking down the narrow but well lit hallway with Steve on his heels. Their footsteps echo loudly as they turn a corner and find themselves in another well-lit hallway with windows lining the right side and closed doors on the other. The Soldier walks to the end of the hallway and opens one of the doors, revealing a small windowless room filled with boxes and broken furniture. It smells musty and damp like it hasn’t been used for a while. It’s not perfect, but he’s slept in worse.

The Soldier walks into the room and sets his duffel down on the floor. Steve follows him inside and shuts the door with his hoof, enclosing them in darkness. The room is cramped and it reminds him of the icebox, but it’s humid in here so he’ll be able to sleep with no issues. He sits down in the only open space on the floor while Steve turns around in a circle and lies down beside him.

The Soldier reaches out and gently strokes at Steve’s soft fur. “We’ll be there tomorrow, Steve.”

_Ah ah ah ah_

The Soldier breathes heavily through his nose as his heartbeat picks up. He looks up at Steve and finds him staring intently at a spot on the wall. “You hear it too?”

Steve grunts in response.

The Soldier settles back down, feeling confident that they’re headed in the right direction. “You’ll wake me if you hear something?”

Steve grunts again in response.

The Soldier yawns behind his mask and lies down against Steve’s body. He rolls onto his right side and buries his face into Steve’s fur before drifting off to sleep.

_“I do not understand how you could possibly drink that stuff!” Dernier exclaims. “I am insulted on your behalf.”_

_Jim shrugs. “I don’t know what the big deal is, Frenchie, it’s just wine.”_

_“Quoi—just wine!” Dernier practically yells. He whirls around so he can glare at Jim properly and nearly falls over in the process._

_“You wanna yell any louder? I don’t think Hydra heard you,” Gabe interjects._

_Dernier rolls his eyes. “Quiet Jones this is serious. Where I’m from, wine is a sophisticated art form that is not to be taken lightly. Once we get out of this hellhole, you are all coming to my mother’s vineyard so we can properly educate your inferior palates.”_

_“You know we’ve already been to France right?” Jim says._

_“Ah, but were you there to be educated on wine?” Dernier pauses for dramatic effect, which causes Jim to roll his eyes. “No? Bien.”_

_“To be honest, I think you’re both wrong,” Dum Dum says as he slings an arm both around Dernier and Jim’s shoulders. “Because good old American beer is ten times better than your fancy pants wine.”_

_“Um—”_

_“Sacrilege.”_

_“C’mon Dum Dum, even I know that’s wrong.”_

_Bucky shakes his head as the four men start arguing about which type of alcohol is better. He slows down his pace until he’s walking in step with Steve, who’s keeping an eye on their six. The others think it was brave of him to volunteer since an attack from behind could come at any moment, but Bucky knows the truth. Steve is exhausted and doesn’t want the others to see him moving slower and get concerned. The Hydra base they just took out was the worst one yet and none of them came out unscathed, despite Steve taking a majority of the fire and the brunt of their attacks._

_Bucky rolls his right shoulder and winces. He tweaked it after Gabe tackled him to the ground so he didn’t get shot in the head. “You know they could go on like this forever, right.”_

_Steve snorts. “At least it keeps them occupied,” he says before lowering his voice, “and we don’t have to listen to them complain about Falsworth anymore.”_

_“Oh thank you for reminding me, Captain, that fucking Englishman is taking forever!” Dernier yells from up ahead._

_“Of course he hears that,” Steve says with a sigh._

_“Now, look what you did,” Bucky says as the conversation shifts back to why Falsworth is taking so long to find a place for them to camp. He turns to look at Steve and notices blood on the side of his face. Reaching out, he touches the side of Steve’s face and frowns when he realizes that his fingertips are wet. “You’re bleeding.”_

_Steve shrugs. “It looks worse than it is. I can already feel the cut stitching itself up.”_

_Bucky hums. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”_

_Steve turns his head to kiss the tips of Bucky’s fingers. “Me either.”_

_Bucky gives Steve a small smile as he lowers his hand. He turns back to the horizon just a figure is popping up over the hill in front of them. He quickly reaches for his rifle, which is swung over his bad shoulder but pauses when he recognizes the uniform._

_“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”_

_“What the hell took you so long?”_

_“It’s about damn time, Monty.”_

_“Fuck off, Dummy,” Falsworth yells, calling out Dum Dum specifically even though Dernier and Jim yelled at him too. He’s never been a fan of being called by his middle name._

_“You love me and you know it,” Dum Dum yells back._

_Falsworth pauses like he’s either sighing or rolling his eyes. “Will you losers hurry up? I want to get back before the deer return.”_

_“Wait, you mean to tell us you took so long because you were fighting off some damn deer?” Gabe exclaims before laughing._

_Falsworth’s body jerks like he’s debating on rushing forward and tackling Gabe or remaining where he is. “Hurry up or I’ll make you lot camp somewhere else.”_

_“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Dum Dum says before breaking away from the group and running forward, nearly knocking over Dernier in the process._

_“Watch where you’re going, you damn animal,” Dernier says as he runs after Dum Dum with Gabe and Jim on his heels._

_“Hey wait for us,” Bucky yells as he and Steve scramble to catch up to the others._

_Dum Dum laughs. “You snooze you lose, Sarge.”_

_The six of them eventually reach Falsworth’s position and follow him off the main drag and into the woods. Falsworth scouted ahead in search of camp a couple miles back while the others were taking a smoke and piss break. He’s been gone for so long that Bucky was starting to wonder if he’d been captured again by accident. Apparently, he was just fighting off some fucking deer._

_Gabe and Jim are relentlessly teasing Steve for being a slowpoke, mainly because he could have outrun them all if he tried despite being tired. Steve looks to Bucky with pleading eyes, but Bucky just laughs._

_“You’re on your own, pal.”_

_Steve gasps dramatically. “You traitor,” he exclaims as Gabe and Jim start yelling and jabbing his sides._

_Bucky simply shrugs, watching amused as Steve wiggles away from their attack and starts running in the opposite direction with Gabe and Jim hot on heels, laughing the entire time. His eyes follow them until they disappear in the tree line. He keeps one ear open in case they run into trouble._

_He resumes following the others for a few hundred yards before they emerge into a clearing, surrounded by towering oak trees with large branches that nearly cover the entire skyline. If he strains his hearing, he can hear a stream close by as well as some rustling leaves that sound like rabbits—or maybe those deer Falsworth had to chase away. They’re completely isolated here and as long as they stay smart, they could probably camp for a couple days until its time to move on._

_“That stream’s gonna have me pissing all night,” Dum Dum says gruffly._

_“Just don’t piss in it. That’s probably the first clean water we’ve seen in weeks—not since that bed and breakfast,” Gabe says before giving Bucky a knowing look that is promptly ignored._

_“Ah I remember that. The food was delicious and the girls were even better,” Dernier says before bumping Bucky’s shoulder. “You and Cap certainly had a good time, no?”_

_“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bucky lies even though he remembers their time at the bed and breakfast clearly. It was the first time he and Steve were able to truly be alone after Steve recused the 107th a couple weeks before. They had just taken out a Hydra base outside the town with no local casualties and the owners offered to house them for a couple nights. On the first night, he was planning on yelling at Steve for following him to war but as soon as Steve walked in the door, all he wanted was that mouth and dick on him._

_Falsworth shakes his head and waves him off. “Deny all you want, but we all know what happened,” he says before walking away._

_Bucky slips off his rifle and sets it on the ground before taking off his backpack and kneeling in front of it. He and Steve really lucked out with the Commandos—they genuinely don’t give a shit about what they do together as long as they try to stay quiet. And none of them are really in a position to judge since Dernier has slept with multiple men and women since the Commandos first formed and he’s pretty sure that Gabe and Falsworth are hooking up, they’re just not as open with their affections as he and Steve are. It’s so rare to find any semblance of happiness on the frontlines and it would be cruel to separate two people who have each other._

_Bucky opens his backpack and pulls out the tent that he and Steve share. Jim and Dernier, and Gabe and Falsworth also share a tent. Dum Dum sleeps on his own because Falsworth complained that Dum Dum snores, takes up all the space, and farts while he sleeps. He slowly unfurls the tent so the ropes, hammer, and stakes that he trapped in the middle don’t roll away. He picks up the hammer and the first stake when he hears Steve scream, causing his whole body to tense, but it turns into laughter quick enough that he concludes that Gabe and Jim must have caught up to him._

_Bucky returns to the tent and hammers the first stake into the ground. It’s a much harder task with his right shoulder banged up, but he manages to get it into the ground after nearly hammering his fingers off several times. He hears familiar footsteps approaching him loudly from behind causing him to smile to himself._

_“Did they catch you?” Bucky asks as Steve kneels down next to him._

_Steve snorts. “More like tackled.”_

_Bucky looks up and laughs when he notices the sheer amount of twigs and leaves in Steve’s hair._

_“Something funny, Sergeant,” Steve says, trying to sound serious but failing to conceal his smile._

_“You’ve got leaves in your hair.”_

_Steve quickly runs his fingers through his hair, upending some of the leaves, but not all of them. “Did I get em?”_

_Bucky shakes his head. “No,” he says as he sets down the hammer and stake and starts pulling leaves from Steve’s hair. “So, they tackled you?”_

_“Yeah and then ran away before I could get back on my feet. I’ll get ‘em back eventually. You’ll help me right?”_

_“Always,” Bucky says as he drops the last leaf on the ground and runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, making sure he got everything._

_Steve sighs and closes his eyes as he leans into the touch. “Feels good.”_

_“Oh yeah?” Bucky says before leaning forward so their lips meet._

_Steve kisses back immediately and his hands come to rest on Bucky’s thighs for balance. Bucky tilts his head to properly slot their mouths together as they kiss slowly and lazily. He licks at Steve’s bottom lip until he opens his mouth; their tongues and lips slide together so filthy that it takes everything he has not to moan in Steve’s mouth._

_Steve’s hands start wandering up his thighs causing Bucky to untangle his fingers from Steve’s hair and grab onto his hands. Bucky is getting hard and he knows that if Steve goes any further, he won’t be able to stop himself from pulling Steve on top of him and getting some dick, Commandos be damned._

_The need for air is getting to the point where it can’t be ignored any longer so Bucky pulls away from Steve. He looks a complete wreck with his hair tousled, a faint blush on his cheeks, and thoroughly kissed mouth. Bucky licks his lips and Steve’s eyes darken as he follows the motion. He starts to learn forward and Bucky uses the last of his self-control to tilt his head to the side so Steve’s lips brush against his cheek._

_“I want you so bad,” Steve whispers against Bucky’s skin._

_Bucky gasps and his grip on Steve’s hands involuntarily loosen. Steve starts to slowly run his hands up and down Bucky’s thighs before Bucky’s real brain kicks in and he retightens his grip. He lowers his voice and whispers, “help me with this tent first and you can fuck me later.”_

_Steve hums as he presses a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Is it later now?”_

_“God, Steve.” Bucky turns and catches his lips before he moves to far away. It’s full of promise and longing and Bucky really wishes he were able to set up the tent before Steve came back. They part for air and Bucky sneaks in a couple quick pecks before forcing himself to move away and continue setting up the tent with Steve eventually moving to help._

_Jim and Dernier finish their tent first, but they are usually the first ones done. Jim starts clearing dirt and using some rocks to form the base for a fire while Dernier digs through his backpack, throwing his things everywhere while he looks for his pot since it’s his turn to cook tonight. Falsworth stretches and cracks his back before collecting some firewood and stacking it in a pile next to Jim while Gabe lays out his collection of Hydra documents and maps on a nearby tree stump to review. Dum Dum yawns loudly and collapses dramatically against a fallen log next to his tent, pulling his hat over his eyes and folding his hands across his stomach._

_Bucky finishes securing the tent and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. He rises to his feet and yawns before stretching his aching muscles, sighing when his bones pop and crack._

_“Cap. Sarge,” Gabe calls. “Can you come here a minute?”_

_“Coming,” Bucky calls back before walking over to the tree stump and sitting down directly across from Gabe while Steve sits down on Bucky’s left. “What’s up?”_

_“I’ve been looking over our route,” Gabe says as he gestures the map of Europe spread out in front of him. “If we continue following the road and go left at this fork, we’ll run into a Hydra controlled town about twenty miles from here. My contact says that the resistance is growing, but they’ll need some help organizing and executing their plan of attack.”_

_“Then, that’s where we’ll go next,” Bucky says as he looks to Steve, who nods his agreement. “The more people we have on our side, the better. Is they’re any way to contact them?”_

_“Once Jim fixes my radio tomorrow and gets a signal, I’ll be able to reach my contact,” Gabe says before yawning. “Sorry. We’re definitely making a dent in their operation, but it seems like they rebuild faster than Dernier can burn it down.”_

_“I swear, he gets more creative with every base,” Bucky says as he remembers a time where Dernier took out a base with a paper clip and some string, which were the only items Dum Dum and Falsworth had on their person that wasn’t ammo, weapons, or water._

_“I tried asking him once how he was able to create a fire using random shit but just smiled and said “un magicien ne révèle jamais ses secrets,” Gabe says with a mocking tone. At Bucky and Steve’s blank look, he translates, “A magician never reveals his secrets.”_

_Bucky snorts and shakes his head._

_“Hey did you have any news on our friend?” Steve asks with emphasis on “friend.”_

_“Who? Zola? Lemme see,” Gabe says as he begins to shuffle through his papers._

_Bucky tries not to tense at the name, but can’t help it. He feels Steve’s rest a warm hand on his lower back, which helps grounds him to reality. That asshole Zola spent weeks torturing and injecting him with God knows what until Steve showed up. He doesn’t like to think about Zola or his fucking lab, but Bucky knows he won’t be able to rest until he personally puts a bullet between Zola’s beady eyes._

_“Uh,” Gabe says as he finds the document he was looking for and quickly scans it. “Not yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”_

_“Sounds good,” Steve says. “Thanks Gabe.”_

_“Yep.”_

_Bucky nods to Gabe and rises to his feet before walking away without waiting for Steve to get up. He feels light headed and nauseous like he does every time he thinks about Zola. He briefly wonders if he’d be able to convince Steve to go back home but quickly dismisses the thought. Steve would never leave a fight unfinished and wouldn’t consider going back to Brooklyn unless he was physically unable to or dead. And since Steve won’t leave Bucky won’t either, even though a part of him wants to._

_Bucky feels Steve gently grab his arm and pull him aside out of the Commando’s earshot. He feels his chest tighten and dread pool in his stomach because he knows exactly what Steve is going to ask._

_“You okay?” Steve asks concerned._

_“I’m fine,” Bucky lies._

_Steve gives him a look like he doesn’t believe him. “Bucky—”_

_“Really, I am,” Bucky says as he steps into Steve’s space. “Can we talk about this later?”_

_Steve works his jaw like he doesn’t want to let it go, but sighs heavily and presses his forehead to Bucky’s. “I wish you’d talk to me about these things.”_

_Bucky reaches up and places a hand on Steve’s face. “I know. I’m just . . . I’m still trying to process everything myself. I just need some more time and then I’ll tell you.”_

_Steve leans into his touch and places his hands on Bucky’s hips. “Okay.”_

_Bucky gives Steve a small smile and gently rubs his thumb against Steve’s cheek. “You know you’re my best guy right?”_

_Steve gives him a small bashful smile that loosens the tension in his chest. “Yeah,” he says before turning his head and kissing Bucky’s palm. “I love you.”_

_Bucky smiles widely. “I love you too, Stevie,” he says as he leans forward and catches Steve’s lips in a sweet kiss._

_Steve kisses back immediately and slips his hands under Bucky’s shirt, splaying his fingers across Bucky’s lower back as he tilts his head to the side and deepens their kiss._

_Bucky moves his hand away from Steve’s face so he can wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders and pull him closer. He licks Steve’s bottom lip until he opens his mouth so their tongues can slide together. Steve’s hands slide down his back and he slips his fingertips under Bucky’s waistband. Bucky moans quietly against Steve’s mouth and rocks forward, brushing their clothed erections together which causes them both to moan._

_The need for air gets to be too much and Bucky kisses Steve until he’s unable to hold his breath any longer. Bucky pulls away and opens his eyes, nearly melting at the open expression of love on Steve’s face, and he can’t help but lean up and kiss him again._

The Soldier’s eyes open slowly and he blinks blearily against the darkness of the room. There’s a warm feeling in his chest that slowly spreads throughout his body, making his limbs feel heavy and sated. He thinks this is what love feels like, but he’s not entirely sure. All he knows is that when he thinks of Steve he feels safe, like he’s something precious to be protected. The Soldier’s eyes slide close and he swears he can feel Steve’s strong arms wrapped around him, his fingers curled into a loose fist against his stomach, his breath ghosting along the back of his neck, and lips peppering kisses on his upper back.

The Soldier’s breath hitches as he pops open the button on his pants and pulls down his zipper. He reaches into his underwear with his flesh hand and pulls out his dick, hissing as the cold air hits him. He spits into his hand and methodically strokes himself until he’s fully hard.

_Slow down_ , Steve’s voice whispers in his ear and the Soldier complies, easing his pace until he’s lazily dragging his hand from base to tip. He bites down hard on his lower lip so he doesn’t make any sounds.

_I wish I could hear you right now. God, you make the best noises_. The Soldier swallows a gasp and breathes out heavily through his nose. “Steve,” he chokes out quietly.

_Make it feel good. You’re so beautiful like this._ The Soldier tightens his grip, but doesn’t change his pace, briefly pausing at the end of each stroke to swipe his thumb across the head of his dick. He shudders and feels a tightness pool in his belly.

_I love you, Bucky._ The Soldier’s hips jerk and he’s unable to hold back a gasp as he cums on his hand and on the floor, stroking himself until he’s shaking and sensitive. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rag, cleaning off his hand and what he can see on the floor before stuffing it back into his pants. He tucks his dick back into his underwear and redoes the zipper and button before settling back down against Steve, his muscles feeling loose and relaxed for the first time in years.

He reaches up and gently strokes at Steve’s fur with his metal hand. “Sorry,” he says. Steve doesn’t respond and the Soldier thinks he might still be sleeping. He yawns behind his mask and closes his eyes. He’s not sure what time it is because there are no windows but with any luck, he may be able to fit in a couple more hours before they arrive in Svalbard.

The Soldier blows out a breath as he begins to drift off when a loud, ear-piercing sound breaks through the silence of the ship. The Soldier launches himself into a crouch, his eyes wild and knife in his hand before he can register what happened.

Steve nudges at his shoulder and the Soldier reaches back to stroke his fur and ground himself back to reality. It’s just the foghorn, which means that they’re close. He remains in a crouch as the boat slows down to a complete stop. He listens as the anchor is deployed with the jangle of chains and a thunderous splash into the icy water below. Footsteps echo loudly against the empty hallways as the sailors move towards the exit of the ship. He can hear multiple conversations going on, but they’re too far away for him to determine what is being said.

He waits until the voices stop completely before slowly moving forward and pressing his ear against the door. He doesn’t hear anything, but he stays in that position for some time regardless until he’s satisfied that the sailors are gone, aside from the one to two people who usually remain on board to guard the ship. The Soldier walks away from the door and grabs his duffel off the floor, swinging it over his shoulders as he comes to a stop in front of Steve. He reaches out and gently strokes at the place between Steve’s ears. “Ready?”

Steve makes a low grunting noise and rises to his feet.

The Soldier walks back to the door and opens it slowly. The hallway is lit by an ugly florescent light casting a sickly green glow that hurts his eyes. It’s pitch black outside and the Soldier doesn’t have a watch so he has no idea what time it is, but he assumes it morning since that was when the ship was scheduled to arrive. The Soldier looks both ways before leaving the room and peering out the window across the way.

Longyearbyen is a small arctic village so he’s able to see everything from his position, especially with the streetlights still on. The sailors are working hard to unload the ship while a few stragglers wander into town. His eyes scan the horizon as he searches for a clear path into the wilderness. He knows that if they get spotted he’ll be able to take out the sailors and the entire town with ease, but he’d rather not leave any clues to his whereabouts, especially while he is only a day ahead of his handlers.

The Soldier smacks his teeth as he looks around. If they get off the ship and duck left there’s a couple crates that will conceal him. A few hundred yards away is a dumpster and an outhouse. If they can get past those, then they’ll be free.

He moves away from the window satisfied with his plan and makes his way to the end of the hallway. The Soldier hears Steve closing the door behind him with his hoof and he still thinks it’s weird, but doesn’t dwell on it. He peers around the corner and checks that it’s clear before darting forward until he’s crouching beside the exit. He sticks his head out the open door and gets a face full of arctic air. It’s cold, but not as cold as the icebox. The Soldier can see that the sailors have unloaded a decent amount of cargo and are taking a break on the other side of the docks. He reaches behind him and grabs a loose fistful of Steve’s fur. “Stay close.”

Steve licks the back of his hand in response and the Soldier doesn’t bother to wipe it off this time.

He runs down the ramp as quickly and quietly as he can before lurching left, ducking behind the crates with Steve on his heels. Wasting no time, he looks around the corner and finds it clear before darting forward, moving as fast as he can until he’s behind the dumpster. Without pausing he turns left, running up and over a small hill. He slows down to a stop at the bottom and catches his breath while Steve comes to a stop next to him.

The Soldier gives Steve two lingering pats on his side before climbing on to his back. He gently digs his heels into Steve’s side, coaxing him into a light jog, and suppresses a shiver as the wind picks up. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his goggles and slipping them onto his face. He feels light as if a weight is being lifted off his shoulders. For the first time, he genuinely believes that Ahtohallan is the one calling him—calling him back to Steve.

The Soldier leans forward and gently strokes the fur at the base of Steve’s neck. “If you could talk, I’d ask you to call me Bucky.”

Steve makes a low grunt as if he understood.

*

Bucky and Steve reach the edge of Svalbard that same night. The Northern Lights shine brightly above them, illuminating the frozen Arctic Ocean. Bucky gently digs his heels into Steve’s sides, but the latter hesitates. He reaches out and gently stokes at Steve’s fur.

“It’s okay,” Bucky says in as soothing of a tone as he can muster. “Ahtohallan won’t let us fall.”

Steve makes a low grunting noise and sticks out one of his hooves, tapping it against the ice. He carefully ventures away from shore as if he’s testing to make sure that it will be able to handle their combined weight. Steve exhales heavily through his nose and slowly begins to pick up speed until they’re flying across the ice.

Bucky takes a deep breath, inhaling the frozen Arctic air. It’s cold, but not as cold as the icebox. He feels light like he has no tension in his body even though his chest is tight and his stomach is constricting. He’s so close and his body doesn’t know what to do with itself. He looks to the sky and watches the Northern Lights swirling overhead as if they’re illuminating their path. Bucky’s eyes follow the Lights back down to the horizon where he can see a glacier in the distance, a glowing blue beacon against the dark night.

“Of course,” Bucky says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Glaciers are rivers of ice. Ahtohallan is frozen.”

_Ah ah ah ah_

Bucky smiles widely and chokes on a laugh as his eyes fills with unshed tears as Steve continues forward at a breakneck pace. Bucky takes off his mask and goggles and slides them into his pocket without taking his gaze away from Ahtohallan. He gently digs his heels into Steve’s sides, encouraging him to slow his pace until they come to a complete stop at Ahtohallan’s edge.

Bucky hops off Steve’s back and gazes up at Ahtohallan’s massive ice wall, scanning the surface with wide eyes. He’s never seen anything like this before and can’t believe that he’s actually here. At the base of the wall, he notices a hole that looks like it leads further inside. He turns to Steve, who has been standing next to him quietly this entire time. He reaches out and gently pets the fur at the base of Steve’s neck. “Thank you . . . for everything.”

Steve makes a low grunting noise and licks his face as if to say you’re welcome.

Bucky gives Steve one last pat before letting his arm fall to his side. He steps away from Steve and starts walking towards the entrance without hearing any footsteps behind him. He resists the urge to look back and pulls his hair out of the bun, letting it fall across the back of his neck and tickle at his shoulders.

A light blue glow encases the entry way and Bucky can see that there’s a wide walkway that leads deeper into the pitch-black glacier. He steps inside the entrance and holds back a shiver. Bucky descends down the walkway, following it for what feels like ages until he reaches an open area. His eyes are still trying to adjust to the darkness so he has no sense of spatial awareness.

Bucky closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, shoving down the anxiety that’s starting to form in his chest. He slowly breathes out and opens his eyes, ready as he’ll ever be. “Ah ah ah ah.”

_Ah ah ah ah_

A bright multicolor light appears behind him, causing him to whirl around and watch as it disappears down the now visible pathway. Bucky smiles widely and runs after the light, chasing it through the winding corridors and nearly falling over a couple times in his eagerness.

The light disappears under a door and Bucky throws up his left arm in front of him, smashing his way through the thick, icy door with ease. He skids to a stop as he finds himself in another pitch-black room. He looks around confused as he walks further inside before noticing something out of the corner of his eye. Bucky turns his head and finds a green light shaped in the form of a large man with a bowler hat.

It takes Bucky longer than it should to realize whom it is. _Dum Dum_ , his mind supplies.

An orange light appears next to him taking the shape of a man with a radio in one hand and a microphone in the other. _Jim._

Two lights appear next to him—one blue and one yellow. The blue light takes the shape of a man with a relaxed posture and a rifle slung casually over his shoulders. The yellow light takes the shape of a man looking down at the papers in his hands. _Falsworth and Gabe._

A red light appears next to them taking the shape of a man gesturing with a stick of dynamite. _Dernier._

The lights start moving, keeping their shape as they dance around the room before coming together in a circle and lowering to the floor. A large five point white star appears in the center of the lights and Bucky stares at it for a long time before he realizes that the star is meant for him.

Bucky smiles brightly and walks forward without hesitation. He steps on the center of the star and the lights shift to form the outline of a shield. The star glows white and a beam of multi color light shoots up to the ceiling and explodes revealing moving pictures on the walls.

Bucky looks around in awe as his eyes quickly flickering around while his mind tries to absorb everything. There’s a child version of himself chasing around a little girl. _Becca, your sister._ There’s a man and a woman, who look like him, smiling and laughing about something. _Your parents._ There’s a woman in a red dress— _Peggy_ ; a man yelling at him and Dum Dum— _Colonel Philips_ ; Mrs. Betsy and Mrs. Dunn, their neighbors—Coach Turner from high school—Carol and Ava—Taylor and Lawrence—the guys from the docks—

Bucky is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotions running through him as tears prick at the corners of his eyes. These aren’t just any moving pictures. They’re memories—his memories.

_Ah ah ah ah_

Bucky eagerly turns at the sound of the voice. There’s a memory of Steve dressed in his Captain America uniform with his cowl securely strapped under his chin and his shield gripped tightly in his right hand. He has a pile of bodies at his feet and is standing in front of what looks like the entrance to a Hydra base. He raises his left hand to his mouth, _“Ah ah ah ah.”_

Bucky’s mind temporarily short circuits and he swallows hard. “Steve?”

_“Come, my darling, homeward bound.”_

Bucky turns at the sound of Steve’s voice and finds a large memory of him as he was before the war—all soft skin, hollow cheekbones, kind eyes, and sweet smile. The multi colored light reappears and consumes him, temporarily blinding him before disappearing again. Bucky blinks as his vision slowly returns to him. He looks down and finds that he’s wearing his old uniform from the war complete with his favorite sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. He runs his fingers over the soft material of his blue coat and looks up at Steve, who is smiling down at him sweetly. Bucky sniffles and wipes at his eyes as more tears slide down his face.

The memories start to pull away from the wall and form into a giant mass of blue smoke. Bucky looks around in confusion as the smoke swirls around him in a lazy circle before dramatically collapsing to the ground. Bucky closes his eyes and coughs as some of the smoke goes up his nose and into his throat. He wipes at his eyes and opens them, finding that he’s surrounded by moving ice sculptures that look like the figures from his memories. He smiles as he starts walking forward, his eyes flicking rapidly between the figures.

_“Hi I’m Eniar and I like warm hugs.”_   
_“I love you, Eniar.”_

_“I’m gonna get you, Becca.”_   
_“Nuh-uh! I can run faster than you now.”_

_“I’m glad to have you back.”_   
_“Me too.”_

_“Prep the asset for—”_

Bucky turns and smashes the ice figures that look like his handlers without hesitation. Fucking cunts.

_“It’s too hot. Can I at least take my shirt off?”_   
_“I guess since you won’t stay still.”_

_“James, don’t eat with your mouth full.”_   
_“S’rry mom.”_

_“As long as I get to come home to you, I can handle anything.”_

_“You know you’re my best guy right?”_   
_“Yeah. I love you.”_   
_“I love you too, Stevie.”_

_“I bet you can’t catch me, Stevie.”_   
_“Bucky, wait up!”_

Bucky watches as a younger version of himself and Steve run through a hole in a nearby wall that leads deeper into Ahtohallan. He follows them, walking down a narrow path until he reaches the edge, which drops off into nothingness. He can hear a train whistling and looks up, eyes locking on the two figures hanging off the edge of the train with their arms outstretched to each other. The train hits a bump and one of the figures falls. Bucky’s breath hitches as his memories rush back, overlapping each other.

_“Bucky! Grab my hand!”_

_“The procedure has already started.”_

_“You are to be the new fist of Hydra.”_

_“— and a path for you.”_

_“You have a mission in Moscow—”_

_“—in Berlin.”_

_“Dive down deep into her sound.”_

_“—in Dallas.”_

_“Sir, he’s unstable.”_

_“Well, wipe him and start over!”_

_“But not too far or you’ll be drowned.”_

_“Cut off one head and two shall take its place.”_

_“He’s going to kill us all.”_

_“Put him on ice.”_

Bucky gasps and clutches at his chest as he pulls in mouthfuls of air. His heart is beating rapidly and his stomach constricts. He feels nauseous and lightheaded as he struggles to keep his eyes open. All that time and energy they spent fighting Hydra was for nothing. Zola lived. He stole Bucky’s memory and identity, turned him into a _monster_ , forced him to work for Hydra. And Steve—oh god, Steve. Steve has no idea that Bucky is still alive. He has to find him.

Bucky slowly starts breathing in and out, trying to regain control of his body. He opens his eyes once his breathing returns to normal and notices the outline of a large boomerang shaped object below him and off to the right. He looks over his shoulder, briefly wondering if he should leave it and go find Steve, but he knows he won’t be able to focus until he finds out what that object is.

Bucky squares his shoulders and jumps, falling for what feels like forever, until he finally lands on solid ground. He visibly shivers and wraps his arms around himself. It’s cold, even colder than the icebox, but he can’t turn back now. He slowly walks forward on legs that feel weighted until he reaches the object. It looks like a plane but it’s hard for him to tell since there’s so little light down here. He reaches out with his metal arm and feels around until he finds a handle, wrapping his hand around it and tugging at it until he rips the door off its hinges.

Tossing the door to the side, he steps onto the plane like object as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flashlight. He clicks it on and turns to the left before the light catches something. He steps closer and his breath nearly leaves his body. It’s a red and blue shield with a white star in the center.

“Oh no,” Bucky says through his chattering teeth. He turns and forces his way into the cockpit and chokes on a sob as he falls to his knees next to Steve’s frozen body. He reaches out and places his metal hand on Steve’s face, running his thumb along his lower lip. If it wasn’t for the ice, then maybe Bucky could imagine that he was sleeping. “I’m here, Stevie. Let’s get you out of here.”

Bucky shifts to stand but finds that his knees are frozen in place. His eyes go wild as he feels a familiar chill seep into his fingers and run up his arms. He drops the flashlight as the cold shoots down his body, freezing his legs and feet in place. It spreads into his torso, freezing him right down to his soul. He racks his mind for a solution when Sarah’s lullaby comes to him and he slowly realizes that he went too far. He swallows hard and places both hands on Steve’s face, illuminated by the fallen flashlight, and presses their foreheads together. He breathes out and watches as his breath skirts across Steve’s lips before everything goes black. 

*

*

*

*

*

*

**2012 – Manhattan, New York City, New York, United States**

Bucky’s eyes flutter open and he blinks blearily against the near darkness. His head is pounding and he feels nauseous and disoriented. He’s laying on something hard and uncomfortable that’s making his back and shoulders ache. He tries to take a calming breath and gags at the heavy stench of must and armpit. Bucky groans and slowly shifts into a sitting position, closing his eyes and putting his head between his knees so he doesn’t throw up on himself. He feels like absolute dog shit and the only time he ever has this feeling is when he leaves the icebox—

Bucky’s entire body tenses and he slowly turns his head so he can look around the area. He’s sitting on the worst bed ever in the world’s tiniest room. If he reached his hand out and leaned to the right a bit, he could touch the toilet and the sink located next to it. There’s a light bulb hanging from the ceiling in the hallway, causing a warm light to stream in through the bars of his cell and--- wait _bars? Cell?_

Bucky furrows his brow as he racks his brain, trying to figure out what is missing, but can’t seem to figure out what. His last memory is a bit fuzzy. He remembers it was cold—colder than the icebox, which is something he never thought was possible. It was dark and there was a plane. He remembers getting on it and finding Steve and—

_Steve._

Bucky jumps to his feet and nearly falls over at the vertigo that overcomes him. He braces his flesh hand on the back of the toilet and places his metal arm over his eyes in an attempt to cool his skin and stop himself from passing out and breaking open his skull. He tries to take a deep breath and nearly throws up due to his efforts. God, he feels like shit. Bucky slowly turns and sits down heavily on the toilet, placing his head in his hands and bracing his elbows against his knees.

Steve is what’s missing, but Bucky found Steve. He found him frozen to death in the depths of Ahtohallan. And he died too. But, it’s obvious that he’s not in Ahtohallan anymore so where is he?

A door opens loudly in the distance followed by heavy footsteps that cause Bucky to jump to his feet, vertigo be damned. His entire body tenses and he wishes he had some kind of weapon in this room as the silhouette of a large broad shouldered man slowly approaches him.

“It’s been a while, Soldier,” the man says calmly.

The blood rushes from Bucky’s face while his stomach drops, making his nausea even worse. He knows that voice—it’s the voice of every nightmare he’s ever had. Alexander Pierce, his current handler, steps into the light wearing a pressed suit and looking much older than the last time Bucky saw him in Moscow. He stops in front of Bucky’s cell and slips his hands into his pockets, trying to appear casual as if he’s talking to an old friend.

“Where am I?” Bucky demands.

Pierce looks at him curiously. “You’re in New York; Manhattan to be precise. Beautiful city—it looks much different than the last time you were here. I’ve had several meetings with the board of directors, but those have finally ended so I’ll be heading back to D.C. in a few days.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for Bucky to speak, but Bucky simply glares.

“Captain Rogers's plane was found last week in the Arctic Circle,” Pierce continues. “Imagine my surprise when we found you in there with him. At least it explains your disappearance after all these years. Fortunately, Erskine and Zola’s work kept you both alive.”

Bucky feels as if he’s been punched in the stomach. “Steve’s alive?”

“Yes,” Pierce confirms with an odd look on his face that makes Bucky realize that he just gave away the fact that he has his memories. “Unfortunately, you’re never going to see him again. Boys?”

Pierce steps off to the side as seven men seem to appear out of thin air, but were probably waiting in the shadows the entire time. They’re dressed in all black armor with military grade bulletproof vests and helmets concealing their identity. One man pulls out a set of keys and unlocks the cell. Bucky tenses, ready for a fight, but as soon as the door opens, the men rush into the small cell, pinning him between the bed and toilet before he can react. Bucky fights back, but he’s quickly overpowered and forcibly dragged out of the cell.

Bucky screams as he struggles in the men’s grasp, but one of them quickly punches him in the head, which disorients him further and causes the world to spin.

“Bring him to the chair and prep him for wiping,” Pierce says from somewhere behind him. “Wheels up to D.C. in forty eight hundred hours.”

Bucky forces himself to fight off the vertigo as he starts to struggle against the men’s hold. He twists his body and one of the men looses his grip on Bucky’s metal arm. He uses the momentum to twist his fingers and break the wrist of the guy holding him. The man screams, releasing his arm and enabling Bucky to attack the man holding his flesh arm, grabbing at the knife he keeps at his belt and stabbing him in the side. That man screams and Bucky wrenches his arm away from him. He uses the shock from the other men to quickly free his legs and scramble to his feet.

He takes out the men one by one, finding it much easier to attack when he’s not being bum rushed in a tiny space. As soon as the last man falls, Bucky pockets the knife and starts running in a random direction. Pierce shouts something behind him, but Bucky doesn’t stop to get clarification. Instead he runs, throwing open every door he comes across until he finds the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time until he busts through an exit door, practically ripping it from its hinges.

The sunlight is shining overhead and he squints his eyes against the brightness. It feels warm and humid against his skin so he concludes it has to be some time in the summer. He can hear cars honking from somewhere on his left so he runs towards them while his eyes adjust to the light. He runs even as the sidewalk turns into asphalt and blinks looking around in awe at how different Times Square looks from the last time he saw it.

He can hear multiple sets of footsteps in the distance and knows that Pierce sent some more men to retrieve him. He looks around forcing his eyes to avert the massive screens as he looks for way to slip into the crowd unnoticed when he sees him. Steve is standing in the center of Times Square talking intently to a man with an eye patch. Bucky’s mouth turns up at one corner as Steve’s eyes slide in his direction. The blood drains from Steve’s face making him look like he’s seen a ghost. Though in a way, he is.

“Bucky?” Steve asks breathlessly.

Bucky smiles. “Hey Stevie,” he says as he unconsciously takes a step towards Steve, watching as he breaks away effortlessly from the man with the eye patch who was trying to hold him back.

Bucky runs to him and they meet in the middle, slamming into each other at near full speed. Bucky has his arms wrapped around Steve’s middle while Steve’s arms wind around his shoulders. Bucky presses his face into Steve’s neck as they sway together dangerously while trying to keep their balance. Steve buries his nose into Bucky’s hair and breathes him in, making him wish he washed his hair at some point, but he doesn’t think that Steve cares at this moment. Fat tears start rolling down Bucky’s cheeks and he knows that Steve is crying too because his hair is wet.

Bucky pulls back from the embrace slightly and connects their lips together. Steve responds immediately as his hands move to cup Bucky’s face and tilt his head to get a better angle. It’s needy and desperate—all lips and tongue and teeth with no real technique but Bucky doesn’t care. It’s perfect— _Steve’s_ perfect and he doesn’t give a damn if they get arrested because he needs this. He needs Steve more than anything.

Steve pulls away first when the need for air becomes too much, but he doesn’t go too far, his thumbs stroking gently at Bucky’s cheeks like he’s the most precious thing in the world. “How are you here?”

“It’s a long story,” Bucky says before leaning up and connecting their lips together. It’s less desperate, but no less passionate. He tilts his head and runs his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip until his mouth opens so their tongues can slide together. He runs his hands down Steve’s sides, resting them on his hips while Steve’s tongue licks into his mouth, making his knees wobble and shake.

Steve pulls away again when air is needed but this time he leans back further. He has tear tracks on his face and his blue eyes are puffy as they roam Bucky’s face in search of answers. His confusion is obvious and Bucky silently resolves to tell Steve everything once they get a moment alone. “Bucky, you died. I—I watched you fall. I couldn’t—I didn’t—”

“Hey,” Bucky says, running his hands along Steve’s sides as a smile threatens to overtake his face. “You saved me.”

Steve looks like he wants to cry so Bucky leans up and kisses the corner of his mouth before pulling him into a hug. Steve gets the hint and wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, dropping a kiss on the side of his head and holding him close. Bucky practically clings to Steve as he digs his fingers into his back and buries his nose into Steve’s neck. He smells like sweat and salt and baby powder and it’s the best damn thing Bucky’s smelt in a long time. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Steve’s unsteady breathing and rapid heartbeat.

Bucky has his entire heart in his arms right now and he vows to never let him go again.


End file.
